Conception
by Apple Jaxx
Summary: Selena was an innocent girl, who was faced with unfortunate circumstances. Or was she? Follow the story of the last year of her life. A story filled with tribulation, tragedy and true love...because maybe Selena wasn't who people thought she was. Told in second POV. Please read and review! Flames are welcome!
1. Homcoming

**Conception**

**Chapter 1: Homecoming**

The large hallways echoed with each foot step as you walk to the library. Hopefully you can find _something_ to do; it's been dreadfully boring this week. When your husband goes The Gods only know where (and you stay here) the days are so very monotonous.

Looking through the shelves for a perfect book, you hear someone, probably a worthless servant, call your name from some far side of the library. "Why are you bothering me? It better be important," you yell, very annoyed.

"Is your husband's return not important?" You whip your head around at the sound of his voice.

"Oh, Morzan, I thought you were someone else," you say as you almost _almost_ run into his arms, except that you don't run. So you simply, calmly walk to your husband and wrap your arms around him. "I missed you," you whisper to him.

"Me too," he whispers in what would be a very romantic way if not for the blood and grime on his shirt and his horrible stench.

You take a step back while you say, "I'll send word to have dinner early. We'll talk then." You give him a sweet smile then leave.

When you see him later at dinner, he is no longer covered in sweat, dirt, and blood, but dressed in the finest clothes money can buy. It's only a short time before the food is brought and conversation between the two of you starts.

"How was the attempt to stop the southern skirmishes? And how did you get so bloody if you were riding Azderon the whole time?" you ask as you lift a spoonful of soup to your mouth.

"Quite a few people in Dauth had decided that they didn't like the way His Majesty is ruling, so they started terrorizing the city. I believe that it was the same people that kidnapped Lord Abaith's daughter. Anyway-

"You mean little Guinevere? It's such a shame she was never found after that. She was always so sweet and gentle," you say remembering the golden haired girl.

"By 'sweet and gentle', do you mean completely unlike you?" He teases you. You scowl at him; he responds by chuckling. "I only tease, my lovely wife, for I would not have it any other way. The docile ladies of court cannot even hold a candle to you and your fire of a being."

Your husband takes a sip of the fine wine and continues his tale of his absence. "I, with the help of those few sane men who are still loyal to his highness, was able to track down the leader of this attempted uprising. I ordered him to be publicly drawn and hung," he explains while cutting into his food.

"So that's why you came full of blood?" you say, more a question then a statement.

"No. When his death was ordered, those of the uprising believed that because they do not think themselves as part of our kingdom, that they should not take orders from the king or anyone under his command. They were dealt with quickly enough." His last sentence was said with an uneasy voice.

"Do you not believe that these traitors were crushed?" You ask, very concerned.

"These rebels were crushed indeed, but I fear that their ideas were not," he mutters, voice still wary.

"Well, not everything is wrong right now," you try to comfort him. "I will have you know that your province was not razed to the ground in your absence." He laughs at your small joke. "I held open court as you do. The farmers were concerned with the lack of water flowing to their fields. Apparently several small streams on which they relied have been dried up."

"It is the dry season. Did you forget that, Selena?"

"I wish you would have more faith in my memory. Of course I know that it is the dry season, but the farmers say the streams have been dry longer than what is usual. In fact, one man said that over the course of the past few years, the streams have run dry for increasing periods of time. Many agreed with him," you explain as Morzan nods his head.

"Very well. I want Mister Fallan contacted; he is a superb engineer and he will be able to design an efficient irrigation system for the province. I give you executive control of this project."

"Yes. You will be amazed to see the results of this project under my supervision," you promise him.

"See that it does," he replied. "Now, tell me of-"

"Wait. There is other news. I found a pair of dissenters in the lowlands last month. They were spreading word of the supposed…madness of his majesty. I apprehended them, but was not able to get much information from them. I sent them to Urubean to see the king."

"Yes," he whispers, mostly to himself. "His Majesty told me." For a minute he stares past you into space. When he finally comes back to reality, he asks you, "And what of private affairs? How are you?"

You set your spoon down, then set your plate aside, ready for the servants to bring your next course. "I got this new dress. It's colored with Dwarfish dye! I wore it tonight so you could see it, but can you imagine the looks on everyone's faces at the next ball when I wear this?" you laugh. You could have never, _ever_, even seen a dress like this one, much less wear it had you stayed in that poor, disgusting village, living the rest of your life as a peasant.

Your plate of roasted duck arrives on the table. You take a few bites before you start talking again. "I went to visit Murtagh three days ago. His governess said that he has taken an interest in music. She says that whenever he hears the musicians he stops whatever he is doing and just listens to them. I took the liberty of hiring a tutor for him to teach him music. He will be learning the hurdy-gurdy and the lute."

"Our son learning music?" your husband says with raised eyebrows. "Wouldn't his time be better spent learning history and combat and politics?"

"Do you not believe your son to be talented enough to learn both?" You smile, Morzan is cornered. Either say that his son is anything less than the best or to have his wish and have the boy only study what he deems necessary.

Lord Morzan sighs. "Very well. He will be able to learn arts so long as he excels in his other studies." There is a long pause, in which your husband looks down in remorse. "I wish that we could see him more often. It pains me not to be able to see my son as he grows."

You too look down for a moment in sadness. As much as the both of you love your visits to Murtagh, they are few and far between. "It pains me too, but we must keep our distance from him. We have far too many enemies to stay close to him. As much as I hate to stay away from him, it would pain me more to have him hurt due to something we could have prevented."

"More than anything in the world," he agrees. You finish your meal in relative silence. At the end, when all the servants are clearing the table he speaks again. "The king as asked for an audience with you."

"When?" you ask uneasily. You know exactly why King Galbatorix needs to speak to you.

"At your earliest convince."

"Very well. How will I get there? By horse I presume?"

"No. I will not have you travel alone on the open roads when people are restless and wanting your head on a platter. You will go with Azderon. She has been meaning to meet with Shruikan for some time now," he says with a touch of sadness in his voice. He has grown weary with all these rebellions springing up.

"Is she willing to fly out tomorrow morning at sunrise?" You want to be back as quick as possible and the sooner you leave, the sooner you return.

He shakes his head. "No. She wants to rest tomorrow; the trip south was tiring and she hasn't had a proper hunt in days. She will be ready the day after tomorrow and asks that you meet with her before the trip to confirm the rout you would like to take."

You give a quick nod. "Tell Azderon I will be happy to visit her tomorrow." You stand up and walk toward the door. Just before you leave you turn to your husband and say, "Come. Let us celebrate your return home. Tonight, come to my chamber."

"Not tonight my sweetheart. I have…business to attend to." He doesn't look you in the eye as he says this.

"So soon after you return? Impossible." He can't possible have duties to attend to the very night he comes back. He wasn't even supposed to be back until tomorrow.

"Not impossible." He still isn't making eye contact. "I must leave now. I will see you tomorrow, Lady Selena," he says as he walks past you and toward the entrance of the castle.

And so you spend yet another night alone, with no one to warm your bed.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! New story! U liek?<strong>

**Sorry to those that read my other story and are waiting for an update, but never fear! I WILL continue the story. However, senior year is coming up, and I'm not sure I can update as I'd like. So as an apology gift, anybody who reviews will receive cookies! For reals tho, if you review, I will give you my favorite cookie recipe. Anonymous reviews will get special recognition. **

** Life got in the way and I hit a major wall with writer's block :/ That, and I decided the first two chapters need a serious rewrite. If anyone betas, let me know and see if you can help me with my other story.**

**Back to this story. There are two types of stories I haven't seen in this archive: Selena not being a victim and second point of view. So I combined the two and this is the result. Does it work?**

**Anyways, tell me what you like and what you don't like in your review! ^_^  
><strong>


	2. Travel

**Conception, Chapter Two: Travel**

**Disclaimer: If I was CP, why would I be here on ?**

* * *

><p>"It's very unwise to wake a sleeping dragon." A wise man once said. You, however, do not take adive from hypothetical wise men and awake the dragon anyway. The dragon glares at you with one eye.<p>

"I would rather sleep in too, but I don't think either of us wants to be flying at high noon," you say as you put your last trunk in her saddle bag. Did you remember to bring your informal clothes, in case anything happens and you need to be conspicuous? Of course you did; you learned your lesson last time.

The dragon kneels down to let you climb onto the saddle. She then walks out of the dragon hold and into the open field. All the while, you mentally prepare yourself for another gut wrenching flight. She brakes into a sprint, and then jumps into the air. There is an ear piercing scream as the dragon gained altitude.

Oh how you hate flying right now

Not having much to do for the next few hours, you try to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and let the wind brush past your face and though your hair. Despite absolutely loathing the jarring take offs, you really enjoy flying; you have since you took your first ride with Morzan when you left Carvahall. (and you never looked back)

When it becomes too hot to travel comfortably, you descend onto a small village. After finding a place you both agree looks adequate, you land (which is just as bad as taking off). Unbuckling the various straps on the saddle, you ask, "Are you hungry?" As you scratch her jaw, she makes a deep rumbling purr of contention.

"No need to go hunting, girl," you tell her as if she could understand. "I'll go into town and get you the best beasts I can find. Big strong work oxen, a fat and happy cow, or stallions of the best breeding," you offer, wanting not only to save time, but also to thank her for accompanying you to Urû'baen.

The crimson dragon licked her lips.

"Good. If you would please stay here, I will be back soon." You start walking towards the village, thinking about what you would like to eat. Strawberries are in season, so you will buy those, and perhaps some cheese to go with the wine you packed.

You find a farming family with an ox after you buy strawberries from the market. It is easy enough to buy the ox from the family. They are poor and more than willing sell the animal for a few pieces of silver. The stallions, however, are not as easy to purchase.

"I'm sorry, but I simply cannot sell you these horses. They are my prized horses," explains the short man as he rings his weathered hands together.

"I am on a mission from the king himself, so you can either sell these animals to be willingly, or I can take them by force while you incur the wrath of His Majesty." At your words, he gives up. With slumped shoulders he walks toward his two favorite horses to bring them to you. He hands you the reigns and you thank him. "You are a good citizen of His Highness. I will tell of your goodwill and of the goodwill of your village."

Your words do not console him. Instead he glances up at you and says, "Just promise me that you'll take care of them. They like to eat oats, and carrots are their favorite snack, and-"

"I assure, they will be taken care of and treated like they are Codec's own riding horses," you tell him.

A small smile appears on his mustached face. "Thank you milady."

You give him a small smile back, then take the horses and the ox back to Morzan's dragon. As you walk through the trees, you think about how easy it is to deceive some people. When you approach her, you find her basking in the sun.

"I bought you some food," you announce as you see her eyes turn towards her meal. The animals panic as the carnivore advances on them. There is a cacophony as she bites off each of their heads, one by one. After a few minutes there is silence as she eats the rest of her meal.

She licks her lips on satisfaction, which elicits a small laugh from you.

"I knew you would like it, and I am glad you are enjoying you food." You then pour yourself some red wine and begin you own lunch. "I think after this I would like to take a nap while the heat subsides. Then we can resume our journey by nightfall and we will be at the capital by midday tomorrow."

The dragon growls at you, as if to tell you that she disagrees with you. You set down your cup of wine on the dry ground. "No?" you say with a raised eyebrow. "Fine. You are the one who is flying. What ever you want. Besides, it usually gets colder up in the air.

You take bite of the creamy cheese then say, "I know you cannot talk or understand me, but it is nice pretending that you do." You recline against the tree and sigh. "I wish you could talk. It would make this trip a little less boring," you explain. After a brief moment of silence, you speak up again. "I  
>wonder what is was like when dragons could talk. I bet you and Morzan had some interesting conversations."<p>

Your thoughts soon turn to your husband. You can't help but feel concern over his growing aloofness. It seems like the few times you had been able to see him lately, he was so disinterested.

You soon leave the small village. The rest of your trip is uneventful with small conversation and endless plains. Just as sunset begins, with orange, red, and pink illuminating the sky, the capital city comes into view on the east horizon.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, here's the second chapter. I tried to be more descriptive here, but I'm not sure that my descriptions actually improved. Other than that, I feel it was a good chapter, if not the most exciting. <strong>

**Thank you to those that reviewed. ^_^**

**Draco Lucius: I attempted to write more description in this chapter, so there's that. As for using "You", I'm trying to write in second person p.o.v. Its supposed to seem like you _are_ the character, rather than observing the character (third person) or the character is telling you their story (first person). As for a sequel. probably not. I plan on ending this story with Selena's death.**

**: No, not at all. I plan on keeping the events cannon, and only changing the perceived motives and personalities of the characters. I'm glad you like it and enjoy the rest of the story!**

**Masa: Thank you! I'm hoping to make Morzan more human and less monster, so I'm glad its working.**

**Blufinger: Thank you. I also got tired of fics where Selena was this perfect angel, so thats where this fic came from. I actually read a lot. Right now I'm reading Joseph Conrad's _Heart of Darkness_. I try to avoid over description, as I see way too much of it here, but it seems i went a tad too far in the opposite direction. Is this chapter better in that regard? Thanks for the review.**


	3. Friends

**Conception Chapter 3: Friends**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

* * *

><p>The landing into the castle's dragon hold is jarring. As soon as you enter the hold, you see several servants waiting to help you unload. You sigh with relief; glad that you do not have to wait for someone to come or worse, have to unpack the saddle bags yourself. One of the three servants not busy removing Azderon's saddle steps forwards and introduces himself, not that you bother to remember his name. He babbles on about The King welcoming you (as if you would ever be unwelcome here) and about how rooms were made ready for your visit.<p>

You have them carry your luggage the short distance to your rooms. Looking around, you realize that these temporary living quarters are at least three times as big as your pathetic hut back in Carvahall. You have the candles lit and send the servants away to fetch you dinner. You fall back onto the bed for a quick rest, letting the red cloth of the downy blankets almost envelope you. About to fall asleep, you hear a knock.

"Come in," you say, despite not wanting to have company after a long flight.

"Selena," someone says, "why didn't you tell me that you were to visit Uru'bean?"

You stand up to go greet you guest. "Abigail," you say warmly as she walks around the corner. "Were you able to gather any information on our Lord Vanger?"

"So quick to forget a friend and use my knowledge for your own benefit," she dramatically sighs. "No, my closest friend, who is to me all but my own sister, only associates herself with me for my contacts throughout the kingdom."

You sigh in frustration, "Abigail, I am tired. I have traveled all day. I do not know if I shall even be able to see you again while I am here. Is it too much to ask for this vital piece of information?"

"We both know that's a lie- You always make time to visit me. However, since you have no other use for me, I suppose you can have this," she says in mock hurt as one of her maidens hands you a folded piece of paper.

"Oh Abigail, you know how much I detest reading." You really do. It is a difficult and tedious task that you simply have not found the time to master. Why learn how to read if people around you will so willing to read for you? "Will you not just tell me what happened?"

Abigail walks over and invites herself to sit on the chair beside the bed. Her maidens take their place behind her, ready to serve. "I found out that the governor of Anora Province is not as infallible as he would like everyone to believe. According to my sources, he has been having an affair with another woman for quite sometime now. So long, that she has become pregnant with his child. He wants to take her as his wife and make this child his heir."

"And what of his current wife?" you inquire.

"Since his marriage to the lady Eglantine was nothing more than a political move for both of their fathers' benefits, he cannot divorce her. Divorcing the lady Eglantine would mean he would loose her father's support of his political career."

You think for a moment before replying,"What part of this story can I use to blackmail the lord Vanger into keeping the price of his province's lumber artificially low? You know how the drought has damaged much of our usually resources this past year."

"The part where he plans on poisoning his wife. If he can make her death look natural, then her father will have no reason to pull his support," says Abigail.

You smile, knowing that your husbands province will prosper thanks to you. As you are about to ask Abigail more, several slaves come in with your dinner.

"I see that you have yet to eat, my lady Selena," says Abigail, "I won't pester you anymore and shall take my leave."

You wish her well as she and her maidens leaves your rooms. Once they are gone, eat in silence, wondering what information the king has prying from your prisoners. After you finish your meal, you fall into bed, letting sleep take you to the land of dreams for the night.

The next morning you decide to visit Abigail for breakfast the next morning. You walk through the halls, morning sunlight coming through the windows. Every so often you pass somebody else walking down the hall. Sometimes it is a member of court, and you briefly acknowledge them. Sometimes it's a servant, and you tend to ignore them. Just before you arrive at Abigail's room, you see the king.

You raise your eyebrow at his attire. He is wearing a flowing white robe of sorts with a geometric trim around the bottom. On his feet he wore leather sandals with straps.

"Your Majesty," you say as you bow low before him.

"My Lady Selena," he exclaims as you stand back up. "I am glad to see that you are here, and I am very sorry I had you come on such short notice."

"My Lord," you say a bit hesitantly, "what in the name of the great heavens are you wearing?"

He gives a light chuckle and tells you, "All of this and more we will discuss when we meet…let's say after the midday meal?"

"Of course," you say with the slightest bow of your head.

"I will see you then," he gives a small wave of his hand, and you notice how many tattoos he has. More than what is proper, that is sure, but he is the king and such social blunders can be forgiven.

As he leaves, you walk into Abigail's quarters. Once inside, you hear your friend and her ladies fussing over something. Once she sees you, she hurries over to you with a giant grin on her face.

"Oh, Selena!" she yells, not noticing how loud she is. "Look." She opens her hand to show you the necklace that she holds. It is a large pendant as big as her palm (even though her hands are small, the pendant is still rather large.), with jewels in flower pattern on the front. Just as quickly as she shows it to you, she hands it to her attendant on her right to be put away.

"Is that from... " You trail off. "I had no idea you and the king were _involved_." You are a bit hurt she did not tell you any of this sooner.

Her big brown eyes are downcast for but a moment. "I wish I would have told you, but as The Head of the Chamber of Internal Affairs, among other things," at this she puts a hand on her stomach. You notice a small bump that you did not see last night. " I have been very busy."

"Very busy indeed!" You chuckle. A small blush appears on her cheeks. "Should I call you Queen now?"

"No," she states a bit coldly. "If were to become the queen, rebels or who ever is behind the recent uprising would see me as a target. No, I would rather be his concubine******," she looks out the window, "Let the king marry another girl, and her die by the hands of these traitors." She is still looking out the window for a moment, then she turns back to you. "Besides, if i were to become the queen, I would have to renounce my position in the Chamber. I happen to prefer that power to being a figure head queen."

You take her hand and lead her out of these stuffy rooms. "Come, we have much to discuss," you say, trying to entice her to gossip with you about the king. You both giggle as you walk down the halls of the grand castle.

* * *

><p><strong>Whoo! There's chapter three. Enjoy! (or not)<strong>

****I would first like to make a note of the way the term concubine was used. I know that a lot of people take it to mean sex slave or something like that, but the way I intend it to be interpreted is more along the lines of its traditional meaning of a wife in all but name. For more info, read the wikipedia article or something.  
><strong>

**Second order of business: This will be the last update for a while. I have tons of applications to fill out and essays to write for college admissions and, as much as I enjoy fanfiction, it's quite distracting. I'm sorry, but don't expect an update for a few months. **

**Once again, a big thanks to my reviewers!**

**Squidcats: Thank you! I'm glad to see my fic is interesting. To be quite honest, I tried to avoid the 'Good Morzan' thing and tried to find a middle ground where he's not a monster, but not a saint either. Seams that I went too far in one direction. Never fear, I will fix that up.**

**I completely forgot about the name thing, until you mentioned it. My bad. The more I think about it, the stupider is sounds. First off, who ever cast that spell would have to know every location of every one of the names. That in itself would require a tremendous amount of magic and energy**, **and that's just talking about where its written. Now the spell casters have to find everybody who knows their names**. **After they find every documentation of the names, they have to rewrite "so-and-so's dragon". That requires lifting the ink from where it is (If you've ever worked with ink, you know that its almost impossible to remove, especially if its been there a while) now they have to go back where the name was and rewrite "so-and-so's dragon" and this is over great distances. I belive that a spell requires more energy the farther away you're trying to cast it. Now the spell casters have to make everyone forget the names. This requires that they locate the part of the brain where every one of their memories of the dragons' names are and erase/rewire that part of the brain. Not exactly easy. And somehow this gets rid of their ability of complex reasoning and speech... I know my dog can't describe herself, but she is far from savage and insane. She still knows that she exists, that she has a home and a family, and that she likes Mexican food. I'm pretty sure this is has nothing to do with whether she knows her own name or not. The Banishing of the names is epic fail ... which is why I'm saying screw this, I want the dragons in my story to talk dammit! As much as I want to keep cannon, I can't think of a good way to have dragons with personalities and cannon.**

**Glad I'm not the only one who thought the names thing was stupid.**

**RestrainedFreedom: Thank you! Glad you liked it! About Selena and Morzan's first child, she died before she was a year old. I really don't know why I mentioned that, but it just seemed to fit. Back in the day, its was so common for children to die young, that even reaching their first birthday was a miracle. I guess I just kind of wanted to show that even in a world of magic, its still a medieval style setting. **

**Draco Lucis: You won! Would you rather me write you a drabble or feature and OC of yours in my story?**

**Unique Fantasiser: You're kinda missing the point dude...but thanks (I think?)**

**p.s. I'm thinking of starting a writer's improvement club over in the forums. I would post articles and websites for authors and we would have tips and challenges and writing exercises. Does that sound like something that you would participate in?  
><strong>

**As always, tell me what you loved and what you hated in your review!  
><strong>


	4. Plans

**Conception, Chapter 4: Plans**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
><strong>

**Important Note: Chapters 3 and 4 have been edited.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Damn it. Damn it. <em>Damn it!<em>" you mumble under your breath as you try to reach the throne room in time. You pass though the green fields that line the east wing successful with no one bothering you. The moment you step inside however, it seems like everyone wants a bit of your attention. After several "Good day to you, too"s and "I am terribly sorry, but I have an audience with the king"s you finally reach His Majesty's audience chamber.

As you are about to enter the king's meeting room, you pass by two men who are carrying many large scrolls. You pass them a strange glance before you enter the room.

When you enter, His Majesty is still wearing the white robe. He is facing the giant map on the south wall while stroking his flaxen beard. Only when the door closes with an audible _slam_ does the king turn around.

"Lady Selena, how nice it is to see you. Please," he gestures toward the table "have a seat." Two slaves walk forward form their place to pull back the large and ornate chair. You sit down, the skirt of your dress puffing up, and they retreat to the back of the room.

"I trust Lord Morzan will be here shortly?" he asks.

You are a bit confused. "No. I thought he told Your Highness that he would be busy."

"…No matter. We have two things to discuss, yes? Good. Shall we talk about the captives you sent me or about the wonderful discovery that was made recently? No, save the best for last.I'll tell you about the expedition The Head of the Chamber of Internal Affairs, The Minister of Foreign Relations and I have commissioned. Well let's not dilly-dally! Anyhow, I'd like you to take look at the map on your right," he rambles, not letting you answer his nonsensical questions. You reach over to pull the large piece of parchment toward you. You study the map.

This map is familiar, yet very different from every other map of Alageasia you have seen. While the known world is mapped, to the southwest, far off in the sea, is a new collection islands and the edge of a new continent.

You look up at the king. "What is this, Your Highness?"

"That, milady, is an extended map of the world. A while ago we discovered a ship wreck off the coast of Nia. At first I was worried that it was one of our own, so, along with checking our records, I sent a company of trusted men to investigate it. Now, we couldn't find any record of this ship, and on top of that my team reported back to me with interesting finding…very interesting indeed," he monologues while pacing the room in circles. You wish he would stop- you are becoming dizzy.

"What they reported to me was that this ship was actually from another country. It was with the maps found on their ship that my cartographers were able to make the composite map that I showed you. Now this ship, from what my experts could gather, is hundreds, possibly even thousands, of years old, but the technology and magic found on board is superb. I cannot even begin to describe it! Their magical enchantments on board were so strong that not only did they preserve most of the ship this long, but they are still so strong, that I have my best magicians still trying to break over half the wards. And from records we gathered from the ship they were able to utilize steam as a source of power*****. One can only guess what they have invented as of now! And the best part? This society is nothing but human! Not an elf, dwarf, or dragon to be read of (yet). Think! If we had not had not had the other races suppressing us how far we could have advanced. I knew when I took this land back from those blasted riders that that human society could thrive without them, but I could have never imagined how much better off we could be! We are limitless!" With that last exclamation, he jumps onto the table and poses as if to conquer the world (again).

He looked down at you a said, "And in short that is why I'm wearing this robe. It's called a toga- it was what these people wore according to the painting we found." He steps down from the table.

"That is incredible, My Lord," you say, not entirely sure how you are supposed to respond.

"Indubitably. .." he says more to himself than to you. He stares off into the distance for a few minutes before you cough and bring him back to reality.

"Ah, yes, the prisoners! The prisoners you sent were a bit tougher to break than what I've seen in a long while. None the less, I was able to gain access into their minds. I have the details of the interrogation in…" he looks around the table for something. "Ah ha! In this scroll," he says as he hands you the large scroll.

"Thank you, Your Highness," you say as you take the scroll

You call the two slaves over to pull out your chair so that you may leave. "You two," you snap at them, "Help the lady with her chair." They scurry over and do their job with little hesitation.

As you are about to leave the room, you turn to the king and ask, "Are you holding court tonight?"

His face lights up. "Yes, of course. You should come, My Lady. I have planned a grand dance for our entertainment tonight and I'm quite certain that you'll enjoy it."

You give a quick nod. "When Lady Abigail and I were bird watching, she received a letter. There were three sparrows and two doves. There was a hawk. The hawk flew over the west tower an hour after sundown."

The king folds his hands under his chin. "Very well," he says solemnly, "I will take the necessary precautions. Thank you."

And so you leave the room, hoping that Abigail's information was correct and that the assassins do not reach their targets.

* * *

><p>Looking down from your seat in The Royal Theatre, you can easily see the performance below.<p>

Dancers are leaping, turning, stepping across the stage. They play the characters of the story; their elaborate customs show who they are playing. One of the dancers, the one playing the maiden is racing across the stage. Waiting for her is her prince, waiting to lift her into air in a grand spectacle. Just as she is to reach her lover's arms, the villain appears. The villain for this play is none other than an elf. Dressed in red and white (the colors of death), hair very much like bird's nest long since abandoned, claws rather than nails on those long and misshapen fingers, and fangs dripping with blood, the elf steals maiden off the stage.

Along the outskirts of the stage were the chorus**. The chorus played narrator telling the story. As of now they were lamenting the capture of the maiden.

The musicians play in front of them, adding a different element to the performance. Their song is mournful as the chorus's story. As the song ends, the stage is cleared and set for the next act.

Behind you, the king and his paramour talk about the show. You hear them discuss the play, referencing works you have never heard of. As you listen to their conversation, you hear a rustling noise. You turn your head a bit to better hear the sound. Another rustle and then a movement in the curtains. Whether it is a rat or some other creature you cannot tell. Regardless, you unsheathe the dagger Morzan gave you and stab at the creature behind the curtains.

There is a loud cry form behind the curtain and suddenly there is much commotion. The person who was behind the curtains dropped his own dagger and fell to the floor. The would be assassin is now groping at where you stabbed him and trying to limp away. King Galbatorix, in his haste to put himself between Abigail and the intruder, knocks over his chair. Abigail makes for the exit and calls the guards. Blood is now pooling around the assassin. All the while you are inspecting his weapon- it is coated with poison.

"You sent you and who did you intend to kill?" The king asks coldly as the guards come storming in.

The man on the floor coughs before answering, "I am with the Varden, and I came to kill Lord Morzan's Black Hand."

You silence him with his own weapon.

* * *

><p><strong>* See aeolipile<strong>

****Think of the chorus in classic Greek plays  
><strong>

**Like? Hate? Tell me in the review! (Seriously though, flame away! I love critiques!)**

**I'm currently working on ch 5, so it should be out soon. I will also be editing ch 3 so, expect that to change some time in the near future.  
><strong>

**If anybody has seen _The Tudors_, then imagine Anne Boleyn's facial expression with Selena. That's the attitude I'm going for. For those of you who haven't watched the show, here's a music video from youtube that displays her expressions perfectly www . youtube . com /watch?= 8X0N46QI9Ag  
><strong>

** Speaking of queens, can anybody guess which real life queen I've modeled Selena after?  
><strong>

**RestrainedFreedom: Thanks for the review! Abigail reminds you of Angela? Interesting... didn't plan it that way...oh well ^_^**

**I wanted to make Gably "The Mad King", but mad like the Mad Hatter. As for Morzan... Let's say he's in the middle of trying to increase his territory's trade deficit without lowering tariffs or something boring like that.**

** Draco Lucis: Thanks for the review!  
><strong>

**Unique Fantasise**r: **Thanks!**


	5. Mission

**Conception, Chapter 4: Mission**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inheritance, if it isn't obvious.**

* * *

><p>"And you are sure that the assassin is dead? I don't want him to be able to attempt murder again. You never know when someone like that could succeed in their mission," Morzan says after you tell him what happened at the king's castle.<p>

"I assure you, my lord, he is dead," you say as you gesture to your handmaiden while sipping your wine. She steps forward, placing an ornamented wooden box on the table. She bows and humbly steps back to her place at your side.

"You may take your leave Aiedail. Have the slaves draw me a bath after I am finished here," you tell the girl. She bows and you smile. It is absolutely wonderful to be able to order people around. Not only are they unable to refuse you, but they must also bow in submission. You are still smirking when she closes the door, causing the room to echo.

Morzan sides the small box closer to him and opens it with a small _click_. Light glitters off the jewels that decorate the box. Inside the velvet-lined box is the preserved assassin's heart. It still steadily beats with the spell you casted on it. Next to the pulsating heart, lies the assassin's dagger- the one you killed him with.

Morzan looks away from the box to you then back to the box in astonishment. You giggle- just a bit.

"Does my lord not find my gift pleasing?" you inquire.

"It's is very pleasing to know that a dangerous criminal will no longer be a threat," he muttered. "What surprises me is the extent of your revenge on the man. While I commend you on being able to take care of yourself while I am not around... What am I to do with a heart?"

"That is up to your Lord's discretion. Perhaps you could feed it to your hunting dogs. A taste of human flesh would do them well. When was the last time you took them hunting for…." You pause to think of what to say next. Simply referring to Morzan's sport as hunting condemned criminals sounds so crude. "hunting for a more agile prey?"

"Not in a while", he mumbles. It is silent for a moment, then he speaks, "How was our Majesty when you visited him?"

"He seemed very energized. It's as though he has completely forgotten about Cesare. He has taken an interest to Abigail and-," you are cut short by Morzan.

"Surely you are not talking about Duchess Abigail?" says, quite shocked.

"The very same. She is even expecting his child," you say as you gulp down the last bit of wine.

"I would have never imagined the two together," he tells you. Although you are happy for your friend, you agree with him.

"He seems very much gleeful. He was wearing what he called a 'toga' and talking about this ship wreck from a new continent," you say as you pour yourself more wine.

As soon as you say that Morzan buries his face in his hands. "As great of a leader as he is, this man has gone crazy," he mumbles. He noticed the look of shock on your face. "The ship he is talking about was just a trade ship what got caught out in a hurricane a few weeks. He got his idea of that advanced society from a story that was written when we created this kingdom." He looks up and asks, "Did he send you with anything? I was expecting him to send the confessions of certain prisoners; perhaps he has just a bit of sanity left to do even this right."

You retrieve the letter. He takes it from you and breaks the wax seal to read it. As his eyes move back and forth across the words, his faces changes from frustrated to surprise to worried. He sets the letter down with a sigh. He looks up at you then down at his hands. He twists his ring around his first finger nervously. "Selena, were you aware the contents of this confession?" he asks shakily.

"No, I did look at it," you say, unsure how to react to his change in mood. You pour yourself more wine and avert his gaze.

"These," he holds up the confessions for emphasis, "tell us who has been leading the Varden and their targets."

You tilt your head in confusion. "This is a good thing- why are you distressed?"

He does not answer you for several minutes. You stand up and take his hand. Although Morzan get upset quite often, he is rarely quiet like this. Holding his hand close to you heart, you ask again, "Why are you distressed?"

He brings your right hand to his lips and gingerly kisses it. As he looks you in the eyes he says, "We both are targets to the Varden; we've orchestrated so many deaths of people valuable to the rebel cause. According to this confession, you are their primary target as of now," he says heavily.

You blink in surprise. "Why me?" you ask, voice shaking.

"They know that you are The Black Hand. Among those targeted, you are one of the few who isn't part of the gentry by your own right," he says. He sees you growing panic and gently strokes your hand. "There is a bit good news, my dear. The leader of the Varden has set out to personally kill you.'

You are now struck with fear. "How is that good news?" you yell.

"Because, my dear, their leader is my old friend, Brom," he says with a chuckle, "and Brom is a dolt who is far too trusting for his own good. Before you kill him, see how much he will tell you about his little rebellion."

* * *

><p>You have been tasked with obtaining information from Brom, leader of the Varden. You know you are being watched: how closely you are being watched you do not know. You hope you are not so closely watched that you are targeted at your home. It is far too easy to find valuable information or artifacts here.<p>

Your vacation home lies on the southern edge of Lake Leona and is unused for most of the year. You have never been there for more than a few weeks at a time, but you here that the air is cool and crisp this time of year.

You have ordered many of your things to be packed and sent to your vacation home. You need to appear as though you live there year-round. Amongst the commotion of your slaves stripping your rooms, you sit near a window supervising the whole thing.

At your right sits Biala, taking inventory of everything that is being packed. On your right is your other hand-maid, Aiedail, examining her fingernails.

"My lady?" Aiedail speaks up, still inspecting her fingernails.

"Yes," you reply, choosing not to face her and instead watch the slaves to be sure they aren't doing anything wrong.

"How long is this mission that you need to take all your belongings?" she asks. Baila sets her notebook down on the small oak table that hasn't been taken from the room yet. and turns to listen. Baila looks as though she has been wanting to ask the same question.

"It's not the duration," you explain, "but the manner in which I must go about this mission. However, it will be one of my longer missions."

"What is the mission?" Aiedail asks. Baila nodded, also curious.

You wave your hand dismissively. "It's classified," you tell them. True as it is, you really do not feel explaining the details of your mission.

"You go on so many missions," Aiedail says, "Were I to do what you, I do not think I could handle it."

You turn your head towards her. "What do you mean?" She has a tendency to be vague or cryptic with you. You hope she will actually answer your question.

"I mean," she says while rolling her eyes, "You are away from your husband for such long periods of time. Men grow needy and when you are away, your husband surely turns to others. I would not be able to handle knowing that he goes to other women, that sense of betrayal."

You raise your hand to slap her, but think better of it and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Morzan is not like that," you say, your voice a low whisper.

"He is a man, is he not? You can't tell me that you are the only woman who has ever pleased him," the bitch says with a smirk.

"He wouldn't do that," you whisper, not sure if you're trying to convince her or yourself.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! I'm back. It was a long wait, but real life gets in the way sometimes " I'm glad I finally got this chapter up, it feels like I haven't written in forever and a day. **

**As always, review with one thing that you liked and one thing that I could do better. ^_^**

**Squidcat****s: Why, thank you. Glad you found chapter 4 so interesting. I edited a bit, so hopefully you questions were answered**.

**RestrainedFreedom: Yes, Morzan is being quite boring, but I guess that's what happens with government jobs. About the cryptic message, I hope my editing of the last chapter answers any questions.**

**Annonn: haha XD**

**Vareniki: Glad the 2nd person POV works for you :D  
><strong>


	6. Meeting

**Conception**

**Chapter 6: Meeting  
><strong>

You laughed when Morzan informed you that Brom is pretending to be a hired servant working in the gardens. You do not know what part of his plan is the most idiotic- the fact that he does not realize that none of your staff are freemen or the fact that he thinks is would be easy to assassinate you by working in the gardens (you hardly go out there). Idiot.

None the less, you walk down to the gardens in an effort to find him. Or rather, let him find you.

It's early spring and the gardens are in bloom with life. You hate it. It's warm and since you are just a mile away from Leona Lake, the humidity makes it unbearable. Insects buzzing around create an incessant, annoying drone. The soil is damp and dirty and you cringe at how dirty the hem of your dress will be when you go back inside.

You kneel down on the wet, sticky soil. The moisture from the ground soaks through your skirt to your knees. You must remember to find a dress that you would not mind ruining in the gardens.

You begin picking weeds from the rows of flowers in a simple rhythm you remember from you childhood days of working the farm. Memories from Carvahall flood back to you. Though you try your hardest to block these memories, the earthy smell and the gritty sensation only strengthen them. You pull the weeds with a grim satisfaction that you are violently destroying their meaningless lives. This thought makes you feel just a bit better.

As you are tending to the flower beds, you sense a foreign presence near. A hand grabs a fist-full of your hair and pulls your head back. Suddenly, there is a cool, sharp blade upon your throat. "Any last words, Black Hand?" says a gruff voice from behind.

You gasp. "Please," you say in mock fear, for you can easily escape with all the spells that Morzan taught you, "don't kill me."

"Why shouldn't I?" he nearly shouts at you. With the blade still on your neck, he releases his grip on your hair and walks around to face you directly while he talks to you. He doesn't realize that he's made it easier for you to escape from him. Morzan was right when he told you how stupid this man was.

"You have caused pain and suffering beyond words. By killing you, I would make the world a better place to live in. You have played a hand in many deaths" With each of his statements, he presses the blade a bit harder against your throat. You wince in genuine pain "Most importantly you are an aid to a cruel and tyrannical empire; even just siding with such an evil is a crime worthy of death. "

His hatred of your country is so intense that it's almost comical. He has hated it for so long, apparently, he hates anything associated with it past the point of logic.

"It's not my fault," you gasp, "I didn't want to hurt anybody, but…but he made me." You force yourself to cry- a trick you learned when you were quite young. "If I don't do what he tells me to do, he gets angry and he…h-he will do awful, awful things to me. Or worse! He'll take my son from me. Please, don't kill me, I have to keep my son safe," you plead as you break down into sobs.

It is not long before you feel Brom taking his dagger off your neck hesitantly. You look up, face full of tears, and see his expression soften. He drops the dagger and it makes a soft _thud_ on the moist ground.

Brom looks down with an expression of confusion, then one of anger, his eyebrows knit together. He clenches his fist. "I should have known that anybody who would work for Morzan would be under a spell of his or otherwise forced," he mutters. He turns to you, kneeling so he is eyelevel with you. "I'm sorry."

"Who are you?" You whisper, hoping to give him the impression that you are frightened. You wonder what exactly he will say.

Apparently feeling the need to comfort you for what he thinks was a traumatic experience for you, he tells the truth. "My name is Brom, founder of the Varden, and I am here to bring down this corrupt empire," he states boldly.

You nod and absentmindedly touch your throat where the dagger was. You pull your hand away and see a trace of blood. How dare that bastard draw your blood?

"Let me heal that," he says soothingly. He reaches over to put his hand on your neck. "Waíse heill," he says to cast the healing spell and you feel the strange tingling sensation that comes with magical healing. You place your hand on your neck once more and there is no longer blood there.

"There," he said with a smile as he pulls his hand away. "You're healed now and I couldn't be sorrier that I hurt you." He seems to be genuine.

You sniff and wipe the insincere tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's fine. Really, I'm used to worse, what with being married to….well, I'm used to these things."

"Is there any way I could make it up to you?"

You make the most of this opportunity. "Let me help you with your rebellion." At this point you are almost groveling as you lean toward him.

"You _want_ to help the cause?" he asks, quite dumbfounded. He shakes his head and pushes you slightly away, a gesture you do not appreciate. "It is dangerous, especially for someone in your position. It is too easy for you to get caught- I couldn't let you. Imagine what your husband could do to you- to your child."

You look him dead in the eye. "That is exactly why I want to help you. I am no more than a slave bound to serve my master, Morzan. I cannot openly resist what he, and by extension the empire, want from me. I am even bound by magic oaths to him. Not only does he have power over me, but his power is backed by Galbatorix. If the Empire fell, it would be a chance for me to be free and finally be with my son without worry that he could be taken away from me," you tell him, then pause for a moment and act like you are about to cry again before regaining composure.

"I cannot do anything, but through you, I could help the Varden. I could be an informant for you. Please, just let me help."

He is quite for a while, just nodding to himself and stroking his greying beard. "Yes, perhaps you could be of use to us," he mutters. His eyes then light up with an epiphany as he exclaims, "And this way you would stay safe. You would not have to risk yourself fighting and this way it's hard for you to actually be caught. Indeed you would make a fine addition to our cause."

You smile a genuine smile, however it is not for the reason Brom thinks. You are smiling because he just unknowingly agreed to be fed false information. He smiles back, that fool. He has played right into your hands.

* * *

><p>You and Brom soon settle into a routine of meeting in the morning and spending time together into late afternoon. That you have managed not reveal your true self to him yet out of annoyance is a miracle. There are times when you just want to snap at him the way he insults your husband, your country, and your way of life. However, you must pretend that you want to take down the government just as badly as he wants to.<p>

What annoys you the most however, is how he has been acting towards you. It started with a few meaning glances. Next were the flowers he would give to you before the both of you departed for the day.

As much as it bothers you, you never do anything to discourage it. To discourage his affections would be to discourage him from having complete trust in you and be willing to spill all of his, and the Varden's, secrets. The suspicious glances for your slaves, and even those of Biala and Aiedail, do not convince you to spurn Brom's affections.

You don't want to admit it, but somewhere there is a part of you that enjoys his attention. You always turned heads when you were younger, and even when you first arrived in court with Morzan, before you were married. Being a pretty girl, then later a beautiful woman, had always come with people treating you different. You had come to expect that.

You stroll down the sunlit hall with him, hand in hand, yet another gesture that bothers you. The two of you are just outside your quarters when he turns to face you and says, "Were these different circumstances, and we still knew each other, what do you think we would be doing?"

You blink in shock, unprepared for this question. "I have never thought about it….," you say,for once being honest around him. "What do you think?"

He give that half-smile of his and replies, "Perhaps we would live together, and enjoy each other's company without fear of someone else."

"Like husband and wife?" you ask, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

"Yes," he says softly, "Just like husband and wife."

"Where would we live? I know of no place that is free of Galbatorix's influence," you ask, hoping to gain something from this odd conversation.

He raised his hand to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. "There are some places that are lucky enough to be free from his evil. The elves' forest is a safe haven for those that that allow in, and The Varden is currently working of allying ourselves with the dwarves."

"That would be nice," you say, happy that you just gained more information on this rebel group.

He nods in agreement before looking out the window. "It's late. I should go," he says wistfully. "Where should we meet tomorrow?"

You look down and softly bite your lower lip, attempting to look nervous. "Nowhere…I…Morzan called me to a mission. I will not be here for…for a while. I'm sorry," you all but whisper.

He clenches his fist in anger for a moment before he calms himself down. You think he is about to say goodnight when he gives you flower, but instead he pecks you on the lips. "Be safe for me," he says.

You nod, speechless and unable to believe that he just did that. You watch him leave down the hall as you stumble into your private quarters. It didn't mean anything on your part and you would never think of betraying your husband, but it still upsets you to think how Morzan would feel. You decide not to think about it and instead have a drink.

Maybe you should have stopped Brom before it got this far.

You sit on your bed and reach between the headboard and mattress. After groping around for a few minutes, you feel the coolness of the glass bottle. At first you are a bit disappointed to see that you have almost finished the bottle (and this is the third bottle you have been through since starting this mission) Never the less, you pour yourself a healthy amount of the amber liquid and begin to drink.

It burns, warming you up as you swallow it down. You smile as your frustrations seem to disappear. About to take another gulp, you hear footsteps coming from the other room. You quickly hide the bottle under a pillow just in time to see Biala and Aiedail enter the room.

Biala opens her mouth to say something, but you cut her off. "Go pack your things, girls. We're going back to the capitol for a while," you tell them.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my goodness! I finally updated! I was super busy with school stuff lately- AP tests, college placement tests, graduation stuff. And then I went to NYC the day after graduation! I've had a lot to do, yo!<strong>

**I feel like I did a lot of telling as opposed to telling in this chapter. What do you guys think? This chapter is mostly unbetaed, so I hope its good.  
><strong>

**Reviews!  
><strong>

**Tayyor: That's cool. Depending on how much you adore him, you may or may not like what happens later in the story...dundundun!  
><strong>

**RestrainedFreedom: Have I ever told you how much I look forward to your reviews? Hint: It's a lot. To answer your question, though, Aiedail is not with the Varden. Its not that black-and-white. She is a bitch, yet completely on the Empire's side. you just have to wait and see what devious plan she's concocting.  
><strong>

**As always, please review and tell me what you did and didn't like about my story. Need and incentive to review? I'll draw something for the best reviewer for this chapter! :D  
><strong>


	7. Interlude: In the Dungeons

**Just to be clear, this chapter does not take place and any particular part of the story. It most likely takes place a number of months or even a couple of years before the beginning of my story. I was having some writer's block and this was the cure. It will have a tiny bit of significance in either the last or second to last chapter, but it is not in any way essential to the story (or the last two chapters) as a whole. Hence, it is an interlude. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Interlude: In the Dungeons<em>**

The dungeons are dark, damp and especially cold today. You shiver, but continue down walking down the stone steps. A few more steps and you reach a large, dark, wooden door. Placing your hand on the door, you whisper, "_I__lerneo_," and a set of keyholes make themselves visible. You pull a heavy iron ring with several keys from your pocket and unlock the door.

Pushing the door open, you step into the dungeon proper. The smell is atrocious- vomit, blood, sweat and other excitements that have all festered from lack of proper air flow. How you wish you could have bigger widows, if only to lessen this horrible smell. However, you can't run the risk of the prisoners escaping. You will just have to deal with the odors for now.

Following you are two slaves, one carrying various vials and jars in a small box and the other carrying a handful of notes and the torch by which you can see. They begin to make preparations for today's session as you walk up to the first cell.

Inside is a man, slumped against the wall and twitching spastically. His eyes are glassed over and doesn't seem to notice anything: not you, not the cold, and defiantly not the puddle of his own vomit that surrounds him. He is in his own world right now.

"Boy," you call the shorter of the slaves over to you. He comes with a book and a plume.

"The prisoner has not yet died, despite the terrible illness the poison induced," you dictate. "Even after multiple doses over several weeks, he has not died. Flower's Tar is unsuitable for assassinations and the like; however, prisoner's increased craving for the tar may make it appropriate for torture. We will have to study in depth later." The slave makes small scratching noises with the plume in an effort to copy down everything you have said fast enough.

You bite your lower lip, thinking of a different poison to test on him. You grin devilishly when you think of one. You look through your stash of various poisons and potions until you find a jar with a lone spider in it. What marvelous creature it is- so small and unnoticeable, yet violent and toxic. "We will have the Brown Wanderer bite him. I want to see if the spider is as painful and deadly as people believe. "

You hand the jar to your slave and he taps the glass to agitate it as you unlock the cell door. The sand colored spider rears up on its back limbs ready to bite. The slave steps into the dark cell and opens the lid to the jar. He presses the rim to the prisoner's arm and taps the jar. Not moment later, you see the prisoner jerk from the pain of the spider bite.

As the slave steps out with the spider sealed away in the jar again, you lock the cell and proceed to the next cell.

Inside is a man who is sitting down while looking at the floor in deep thought. "You are new here," you say, "What did you do to gain the pleasure of coming to my personal prison?"

He sighs, as if it is a bother to tell you. "Far back as I can remember, I've been in and out of prison." As you listen to him, you pour two drinks- one for him and one for yourself. "Mostly for small things…petty theft, smuggling, poaching, the like. Always managed to break myself out though. This last time I was arrested, they found out my habit of getting away from them. So I was given the death sentence, something about being a waste of space and better off fertilizing crops, and here I am."

"Here," you say as you pass the drink to him through the metal bars of the otherwise wooden door, "If you are going to be staying in my prison, you'll need a strong drink." He takes a sip, but eyes you suspiciously. In an effort to ease him into finishing his drink, you smile and raise your own cup into the air. "Cheers," you say merrily. You then sip your drink.

He gives a half smile and replies, "Cheers." He downs his drink in about three gulps. "Why are you being…..well, hospitable to me? Aren't I your prisoner?"

"I'm planning on killing you by poison," you say bluntly, " I would really appreciate you being honest as you can with me as I need to know the exact effects of the poison as you die."

He shrugs, not acting surprised or offended. "I can't say that I blame you. Though, I would have tried to gain your favor anyway. I've felt the lick of the whip too many times to want to antagonize my captors."

"Good." You are glad you do not have to fight with this one. "Tell me, did you taste anything peculiar in your drink?"

He eyes the cup you gave him, now empty but for a remaining drop. "No, but I wasn't paying attention to the taste. You could have given me horse piss and I wouldn't have cared, so long as it gave me a buzz." He pushes the cup back through the bars.

You take it and give it to your slave to put away. "So long as you didn't taste mercury," you tell him, "I'm happy."

Your next prisoner is not in the next cell as that one still had a corpse in it that the slaves hadn't cleaned up. You can hear her distinctly feminine sobbing two cells over.

The girl is curled up for warmth on the floor of the cell. Her hair and her dress are so dirty it is impossible to tell what the original colors were. "You," you call out to her, "Come here." She snaps her head up to look up at you; her eyes are full of defiance and hatred. Despite the tear marks on her face, she looks anything but sad.

"No." she says, her voice strong.

You frown at her disobedience. "Come here, girl, before you make it worse for yourself."

"No," she says, even louder this time.

"We will just have to do this the hard way," you sigh in disappointment as you swing the keys around your finger. You point to the taller and command, "Get her. I need her immobilized," you say almost casually as the slave obeys. If only everybody knew their place like the slave, things would be much easier.

The girl fights and struggles, trying to not be chained up. You watch in amusement as this girl thrashes and kicks to remain free. Well, for the given value of free. It is funny- the poor thing doesn't know when to give up. All the fighting in the world cannot save her. While her never-give-up-attitude might have helped her before she was convicted, it means nothing here in your domain.

After several minutes of you watching her fight and your slave failing to restrain her, you become bored decide to end it. "Malthinae," you say, holding the spell just long enough to have her shackled to the wall of the dungeon.

Once she can no longer move freely, you enter the dungeon cell. "Now," you say sweetly as you cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look up at you, "wouldn't it just have been easier to listen in the first place?"

As you walk away to get her poison, she spits at you. In surprise, you wipe off the back of your neck. In disgust, you wipe your hand on your dress. "You bitch," you growl as you strike her with the back of your hand. She whimpers and even in the dim light, you see that your ring left a cut on her cheek

"You are _very_ lucky that I don't normally keep my torture devices down here. People like you are normally given with The Pear of Anguish or The Iron Gag- and that's when I decide to have mercy." The look of horror on her face is absolutely stunning.

The poison you give her is a thick maroon liquid with golden flecks floating through it. While it may not the best for assassination, you still need to know if your experiments have worked. You forcefully open the girl's mouth and pour what you call "Orcus's kiss" down her throat. She gags and almost spits the potion out.

"Swallow," you command her, "If you know what is good for you, you will swallow all of it down." With more gagging, she manages to gulp it down. When she is finished, she looks up at you with fearful eyes and her mouth slightly agape. She is panting and there is a bit of saliva mixed with the thick liquid dripping out of the corner of her mouth. How pathetic she looks, submitting to you like this.

"Good girl," you say in a gentle tone, stroking her hair, "Now we will just have to see how you die and how long it takes." You walk away, leaving her to contemplate her death. Just before you pass through the frame of the iron-barred door, you turn back to her and add with a chuckle, "You should hope it does kill you. I have had many cases where the poison didn't kill my victims- just let them in agonizing pain."

After watching your first prisoner die due to breathing complications and muscle failure, you decide that the spider could be of use to you later on. While your other two victims haven't died yet, you have had enough on this dungeon chamber for the day and decide to leave. You entrust one of the slaves to observe the others and take detailed notes for you.

You simply could have others test your poisons out on various prisoners, but you learn so much more from watching it firsthand. Besides, what fun would it be to make all these poisons and not get to watch them in use?

* * *

><p><strong>Before you do anything, read the fourth-to-last paragraph with a Freudian perspective... Ya, it's pretty screwed up...<br>**

**Selena, who was originally going to be based off of Lucretia Borgia, has now reached Cleopatra-level sadistic. Let's hope that she doesn't level up to Countess Bathory DX**

**What do you think? Too graphic? Not graphic enough? I needed it to be a bit gory, for lack of a better word, to get just the right kind of darkness in this piece. I can't tell you how much effort I put into getting the mood just right! I even had to make a play list:  
>In the Hall of the Mountain King, by Epica<br>Dance of the Knights, by Prokofiev  
>Sensemaya, by Revueltas<br>Dance of the Knights, by Epica  
>Borgias Opening Credits, by Trevor Morris<br>Lestat's Recitative, from Interview with the Vampire  
><strong>

**Review time!:  
><strong>

**RestrainedFreedom: I love that you love the love triangle! XP Concerning the kiss, she just drinks a lot. Selena will use almost any reason to drink. I guess you could say that she is on step negative two of her nine-step program.**

**A Ghost Who Walks: I'm really glad that you like it ^_^ As far as Brom's naivete goes, it's a bit exaggerated as you are seeing it from Selena's pov. If you like reading stories that give the Empire's side, you (and RestrainedFreedom for that matter) should read "From White to Black." You can find it in my favs list :)  
><strong>

**Xarv2: Why thank you :3  
><strong>

**CarminaxBuranax: Thank you! Because CP already kinda covered BromxSelena, I wanted to focus on MorzanxSelena. But there will be a bit more BromxSelena in the future ;D You'll just have to keep reading to see it.  
><strong>

**Read and review! Critiques are welcome!  
><strong>


	8. Betrayal

**Conception, Chapter 7: Betrayal **

**Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.**

* * *

><p>Abigail is dead. You found out within a few hours of arriving at the palace. It's been a week since you left Urubean, and longer still since you learned of Abby's death. You don't know how exactly to feel about this. Certainly not shock- it's not uncommon for women to die in childbirth. However, you do feel a sense of loss with her passing. It strange to think that someone you grew to know so well has just disappeared.<p>

You don't know when exactly your relationship changed from acquaintances to close friends, but you do remember the lengthy late night talks, and the afternoons spent in the gardens that sealed your trust in her. Before Abigail, you cannot remember ever calling another woman a friend.

You have always clashed with any other female you have met throughout life, whether the young girls you grew up with in the village or the baronesses and duchesses you have met in court. They were always so bitter and resentful of you, always trying to make you fail.

Abigail, however, was just so different. She did not care about marrying up, or showing off her wealth (which was near limitless), as others were wont to do. She only cared about making the nation grow and prosper.

It was strange to have someone close to you. It was stranger still to lose someone close to you. Abigail was the first true friend you ever had, and the first true friend you ever lost.

As you ponder over this, you sip from your glass of wine, letting your heart go numb.

After sitting alone with just your thoughts, you remember that Morzan has come to check on you and your, lengthy, boring mission, and to give the impression that this summer house is your permanent home. Perhaps your husband can be of more comfort than some red drink. You put the near-empty (not that it was very full to being with) bottle down. You stumble a bit as you make your way towards the door, but you are still determined to enjoy the little time you have with your husband.

The full moon shines bright enough through the large glass windows to illuminate the halls of the castle. Even though, you still stumble a bit: you always get a bit clumsy when you are tired. You manage to find your way down the hall and down several flights of stair without hurting yourself, only to run into corner you could have sworn was never there before.

"Fuck!" you shout loudly, not at all happy about the throbbing pain on your forehead. You gingerly wisp your fingers across your face and discover a spec of sticky blood. "Son of a bitch," you mutter as you wipe the blood off on the skirt of your dress.

"Selena," you hear Morzan call out from not too far away.

"Over here, love," you call back, stumbling to follow the sound of his voice. From around the damned corner, comes Morzan.

"Are you alright?" he asks in a soft tone. You just nod in response. "Nearly woke up half castle you did," he chuckles as he takes your hand and leads you down the corridor. "Let's go to the kitchens- there's nobody there for you to awake over there."

The kitchens are dimly lit when you arrive, and neither of you bother to add any sort of light. Morzan hands you a plate of fruit, cheese, and a roll of bread, "Here It'll help absorb all the alcohol in your system."

You look up at him in shock. "I'm not….How did you…I'm only a bit tipsy"

He gives a knowing smile. "I know you." A slight pause before he adds in a more serious tone, "And I know you haven't been well since the burial." Even though there is little light, you can still see a slight frown of his.

While you would like to tell him it's not all that bad, you're fine doing, he doesn't have to worry…you can only sigh and nod your head in agreement. You eat your food absent mindedly and pray you can forget. "I hate funerals. They remind me of Malene, my mother."

"I know it's hard," he whispers lovingly, "but everyone dies in the end," he says as he rubs small circles on your back.

You cast him a sideways glance. "You won't," you state, blunt as ever.

"Who knows?" he says with a shrug. "Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. There are a million and one things that could kill me, and I've been lucky enough to avoid them. That's just the random nature of life."

"I guess," you say lifelessly. "Still doesn't make me feel better." You take some more food in a halfhearted attempt to think of anything else. You set the plate on a counter and head for the exit. "I'm going to the cellar. Do you want something?"

He blocks you with his hand. "No you're not- you've had enough to drink tonight. Let's just get you to bed."

"I'm fine. I can get there myself," you grumble.

"If you say so," he says, not wanting to argue over something like this. "Just be careful."

"I will," you say defiantly.

As you head down the hall you hear the door that leads from the outside into the kitchen quickly open. Curious as to what Morzan is doing, you head back to the kitchen and listen out of sight.

"I'm here," a girl's voice announces just above a whisper.

"Imra," Morzan greets. "Please, come in." You can't see what's going on, but you hear two quick kisses and you heart flares with anger and jealousy. You pray that this is not what you think is it. You stay, hoping to hear something to tell you otherwise.

"Good to see you," says Mozan simply.

"Sorry I'm a bit late, but I had to make sure no one saw me come in," says the whore. You hope she dies of syphilis someday.

"Its fine- any sooner and you would have run into my wife," Morzan explains. You are listening to your husband and his mistress; it pains you so much, yet you keep listening. "It would have been hard to explain your presence."

The girl gives a light giggle. "Yes, it would have. I guess luck is on our side. "

"Very much so," Morzan agrees. There is a heavy pause and Morzan takes a deep, frustrated breath. "What we're doing here…it would cause scandal if any one finds out before due time. Everybody in Urubean would be talking."

"And of course that would ruin everything we have been working on," she further explains.

"Yes, of course. Let's not talk about anything here," Morzan says as he leads her out the back entrance. "There are people, or rather a person, here that could ruin everything should they hear. "

You hear her agree, and then they both leave. By the time your hear the door shut, tears are streaming down your face, probably making a mess of your make up. Everything makes sense now: his lack of enthusiasm, the seemingly random duties that required the two of you to separate, his tiredness.

You head down to the cellar to drown your sorrows. Hopefully you can drink enough to still be drunk come morning.

Not wanting to open a new bottle, you find a half empty one and pour yourself a glass. You're not exactly sure what's in the bottle, but you don't care. Before you realize it, you are taking big gulps, not caring to use any sort of cup anymore. You don't know how much you have drunk at this point, but the bottle is becoming emptier than you would like it to be. Resolving to get back to bed while you are still sober enough to walk, you take am extra bottle and head back.

Somewhere along the way, you abandon your mission to get fall asleep on your own bed. You find yourself looking for Brom. You just need to talk to somebody, anybody. Even if it is Brom.

You wonder where you went wrong. You were the perfect woman for him. His demure wife when people were watching, and the perfect killer behind the shadows. You left your home, your family, your entire life for him. Yet this is how he repays you.

What now? Will he just discard you now that he's done? Or will you be forced to live through the rest of a now broken marriage? What will happen to your son?

You arrive at Brom's quarters, a small but habitable place. You knock once, twice, thrice. No answer. Again you knock. This time an answer.

Brom opens the door, groggy looking and a bit surprised. "Selena," he exclaims, "What brings you here at this time? Are you alright?" His voice is filled with concern.

You let yourself in, knowing he would have invited you in anyway. "I just need company right now," you say, feeling so broken.

"Do you want to talk?" he asks tentatively as he looks you dead in the eyes.

"It's a long story…" you sigh, trying not to break down crying. His hand is close to yours. You take his hand in yours and squeeze it to reassure yourself "Why don't we get a fire started, so I can tell you everything without interruptions?"

"There's not much furniture here, but you can have a seat on the bed," her offers awkwardly, gesturing to the bed.

"That's fine," you mutter as you take a seat. Shoulders slumped, you watch him as he flutters about, setting up a fire in the fire place, using wood from piles scattered around the small fire place. Despite the fact that he seems to be lighting the fire with magic, the wood is persistently not catching.

While you are waiting for the fire to start, you look around the moonlit room. There are little trinkets everywhere. Small things- insignificant to everyone but the owner a rock, an old letter, a rock, a blue feather. . A small blue feather rests on a small table. He told you the story about that feather, but you can't remember it- you just remember that it is extremely important to him

Your husband, on the other hand, surrounds himself with grandeur. Trophies of victories, awards, pieces from the greatest artists of your time. You guess that's the fundamental difference between the two men. One lives in the past and the other lives in the moment.

You notice that there is still no fire started. "You need to add more kindling," you state evenly, getting annoyed at how long this is taking.

"Oh, yes ," he laughs. "What would I do without you?" You shrug, not feeling up to giving a real reply. The wood finally lights up and the room is fully visible.

Setting your hand down, you remember the bottles you brought. "I brought some drinks. I have no idea what kind of drinks they are, but I don't think either of us really cares. Think of it as consolation for having to deal with me."

"It's no problem at all," he says soothingly as she stands up from his spot near the fire place. "I enjoy your company, truly." You smile at that. It's good to feel wanted, truly.

When Brom turns back to face you, he gasps. "Selena," he asks tentatively, "what happened?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, not knowing what he is talking about before you remember that you ran into a wall earlier. "Oh… that," you mutter, still quite embarrassed. "It's nothing really. It's my own fault actually," you say offhandedly. "It doesn't really matter, though. Let's just have some drinks already." You are becoming very annoyed with his stalling.

He takes the bottle you handed him, albeit a bit begrudgingly. He pours the drinks and hand you yours, still looking at you like de doesn't believe you. "You don't have to blame yourself for this, Selena- it's not your fault you are hurt."

He's right- it's not your fault at all that you husband is out with another woman; that blame lies solely on him, the cheating bastard that he is. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to visit Brom after all, you muse to yourself as you smile just a bit. Still, that fact that it isn't your fault doesn't make you feel better. The feeling of betrayal comes sneaking up on you once again like a snake. Tears run down your cheeks in streams.

"Just because it's not my fault doesn't mean he hurt me any less," you whisper as you erupt from silent crying to outright sobbing.

The bed dips down as he sits next to you on the bed. He wraps his arms around you, trying to console you. Even as your shoulder rise and fall violently with each sob, he still holds you like and anchor hold a ship in the safety of the harbor in a storm. "I can't believe he did this to you, " he says, murder in his voice. "What kind of monster would lay his hands on you, or any woman for that matter."

Although you have no idea what he means by "lay his hands on you" , you continue to let him sit there and whisper sweet reassurances to you. Any comfort is good comfort right now.

"Why would he do this? I though he loved me…" you mutter once you stop sobbing and can talk once again. You drown all these feelings of in adequacy with the contents of your glass. Throwing back your head, you ignor the burning sensation on your throat.

"Some men cannot feel love. They are so corrupted by all their evil acts that they lost all capacity to love," he says with all the conviction in the world. It's as if he thinks of love like some incredible gift. Surly everyone can love, to some degree. You don't argue this though. He sighs, obviously frustrated. "Morzan is not… he's scum. He's done so many horrible things that he's deprived himself of his humanity. Selena, he's a monster." He looks deep into your eyes, begging you to understand.

You do understand. You didn't think you could ever hate Morzan, but you do right now. He hurt you, betrayed your trust, violated your marriage, and led you to believe everything was ok. Brom is right- Morzan is a terrible husband. You were mad earlier, yes, but you didn't hate him as you should have. Brom has opened your eyes to the true Morzan, as if someone drew the curtains and you were able to finally see the world on the other side of the window.

"Thank you, Brom," you say, "Just talking to you has made me feel so much better," you sigh as you place your hand on his thigh and rub tantalizingly slowly. You run your hand up his torso and finally stop when you are cupping his face. You see a look of shock on his face, but you don't care. This is about you tonight. You lean in and kiss him- drunkenly, sloppily, probably badly, but passionately none the less.

A spark of guilt lights in your chest, but between the betrayal and alcohol, it doesn't mean much. Yes, you are breaking your wedding vows with another man, but you wouldn't do anything if Morzan didn't do it first. There is no harm in what you are doing.

Hands start wandering, touching, caressing. Emotions begin to rise. Clothes fall off and you lose yourself in a night of drunken ecstasy.

After all, this night is to help you forget. This night is all about you, and no one else.

* * *

><p><strong>There! I finished the chapter. It took me forever and a day, but it<strong>**'s done! Sorry about the long delay, but I am taking 19 hours worth of classes this semester, including calculus and Arabic (a.k.a. foreign language from hell. jk its just really hard to learn) and I work. I love all my readers, but I got to prioritize, yo.  
><strong>

**Anywho I really liked this chapter, and I hope ya'll do too. If anything doesn't make sense, remember that Selena is drunk with selective hearing in this chapter. Please review, and tell me what you liked, didn't like, and what I could improve on. Also, I made some corrections in previous chapters.  
><strong>

**Review time! yay!  
><strong>

**Restrained. Freedom: And I LOVE you reviews! :D It's not necessarily the work she enjoys, its the power she has power others while doing it.  
><strong>

**TsukiHiakari Okami: Thnx n_n I made some corrections, so all those problems are now fix'd  
><strong>


End file.
